


Worth it

by Chelidona (Hobbity)



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Anders is not a stellar boyfriend, Fluffy, M/M, Mitchell is not happy in New Zealand, a bit - Freeform, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbity/pseuds/Chelidona
Summary: Mitchell is not happy in New Zealand and Anders has some trouble being a boyfriend. Is their relationship worth it?





	Worth it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [islandkate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandkate/gifts), [Lakritzwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/gifts).



> Something I wrote very quickly and that was corrected by the ever lovely islandkate.

Anders‘ interest in the arse of the dark haired woman walking in front of them could not be any more obvious. Mitchell gritted his teeth and held on more tightly to his shopping bags. Even more so, when the woman stopped and Anders bumped into her — accidentally, of course. While Anders made a charming apology, Mitchell walked on towards the car park and Anders’ flashy car. Everything about the man was flashy.

Anders caught up with him before he was even out of the shopping centre and put a hand on his arm, “You sure you don’t want to go and buy a suit?”

“No,” Mitchell shook off the hand and kept walking through the sliding doors, “I don’t need a suit.”

“So what are you going to wear for Christmas dinner?” Anders demanded.

“Jeans and a shirt? Like Axl is going to wear anything more fancy than that.”

He could practically hear Anders roll his eyes, “Yea, you don’t want to compare yourself to Axl. I can’t take you to a fancy restaurant dressed like this, can I?”

“I am not going to buy a suit Anders.”

“You could at least make an effort,” Anders huffed, as he tried to keep up with Mitchell’s long strides.

Mitchell did not reply and Anders appeared to give up for now. They reached the car in silence and drove back to the flat in silence.

Once back home, if Mitchell could call it that, he put the groceries away. Halfway through Anders stepped behind him, pressing himself against Mitchell. With Anders this could only lead to one thing. Something Mitchell was all too willing to give, even though at the back of his head, he wondered if Anders’ would have preferred the woman from the mall.

Later, when Anders was in the shower and Mitchell cooked dinner, he wondered, not for the first time, what the hell it was they were doing.

Not long after he arrived in Auckland he had learned about Anders’ past as the vessel of a Norse god. And he learned just what Anders had used his unique gift for. Not that he was in any position to judge Anders, because around the same time he had confessed about his past as a vampire. And the new chance he was given of a mortal life after defeating Herrick. He had believed it was fate. That he and Anders were meant to figure out mortal life together.

He really was too sentimental.

*

Saturday evening Anders was out. Meeting a client, he said. Mitchell found himself wondering if that was really all it was. But the good thing about Anders being out was that he could have a video call with George, Nina and Annie.

After he had all the updates on life in Bristol, he could not avoid the questions about life in Auckland.

“You don’t seem happy,” Annie insisted, after Mitchell had claimed to be perfectly pleased with the Antipodes.

“I am adjusting,” Mitchell admitted. “It will be fine.”

“Mitchell …”

“Annie, leave a bloke be!”

Annie and George speaking over each other made Mitchell chuckle.

“It’s Anders, isn’t it?” Nina asked, while George and Annie were still quibbling.

Mitchell shrugged. And for the first time in the three months since he moved here, he did not feel like denying it.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“I told you it is a bad idea to move around the world for a bloke you had a three night affair with.” George had, of course, forgotten all about “leaving a bloke be,” now that he had an opening to hassle Mitchell. “I told you. You gave up your life and …”

“I know, right? I know.” Mitchell rubbed his forehead. “I know,” he added more quietly. “But don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy, sexy as hell, charming, clever ….”

“But?” Annie pressed when Mitchell trailed off. “Mitchell, do I need to come there and haunt him?”

Mitchell laughed. “No, but I should have known that he is not the kind of guy to be tied down.”

“Is he cheating on you already?” And Mitchell could picture her face clearly even though the camera only showed him George and Nina of course.

“I'm not sure, but even if he isn't tonight, it's only a matter of time. I should have known, the way he pulled me at that bar … I just thought. I thought there is something special between us, you know.”

“Oh Mitchell ….”

“Your job at the hospital is going to be open again, soon.” George, as always, was more practical. “I chatted with the new bloke today, and he told me he’s going to quit end of next month. He’s not told the boss yet, but, you know, I'm sure you could get it back.”

“Thank you.” Mitchell forced a smile. “I don’t plan on giving up so soon, though.”

“All right then. Just thought I mention it.”

“We miss you,” Nina added, nudging George. “Just don’t forget that Mitchell.”

“I won’t. I miss you too.” He forced his affectionate smile to become a less embarrassing grin. “Even George.”

“Oy!”

Mitchell heard the lock in the door turn, earlier than he had anticipated. “Anders is back, guys, so I’ll talk to you another day.”

“Sure.”

 

*

It had been a nice idea. In theory. Anders had decided to take Mitchell out in style – to an Irish pub. Of course, back in Mitchell’s Irish days, pubs did not serve food. They also did not allow women to enter it. And while, in general, he was very much in favour of the strides Irish women had made towards equality since the day his mother and sisters would not even have considered setting foot in the local pub, while he really knew it was right, this evening he wished there were no women in here to openly flirt with his boyfriend.

In fairness, the woman had come up to Anders. It seemed like the two were acquainted and she knew very well what she wanted from the gorgeous blonde in his grey suit. And while Anders laughingly told her that he had no interest, he also indicated in no way whatsoever that the scruffy guy next to him was actually his boyfriend.

At 120, Mitchell felt he was too old to mark his territory. Anders was his own man. So Mitchell soon took the lady’s hint and wandered off towards the other side of the pub, where a small live band was setting up. He asked the bartender when they would be on and was soon in conversation with a young Irish student at the bar, whose friends appeared to be very late.

Mitchell had not been back in Dublin since the war, but he kept up with city well enough to be able to talk about “home.” Home that was not really home anymore. The Liffey was still there, but Mitchell knew that every year, he would recognize the city less. It was a good thing too. The last time he had been there, Ireland was still under English rule.

He found the young man very receptive to a discussion of Irish history and they still kept talking while the music was playing some traditional jigs. When Mitchell went out with the guy, Sean, for a smoke he passed Anders who scowled at him.

He had not even finished his cigarette, when Anders came out, spinning the car key ring on his forefinger, “Come on then, let’s go home.”

Mitchell lifted his eyebrows. “Will you drive?”

“After half a pint of Guinness?” Anders smirked. “Yes, I will. Coming?”

Mitchell came, hating himself for acting like a dog who followed his owner’s whistle.

“Sorry for interrupting your little tête-a-tête there,” Anders remarked as he was opening the car.

“Sean seemed a nice bloke.” Mitchell swung himself into the passenger seat. “It’s always nice to talk to somebody from home.”

“So, you chat up a young hunky bloke because of sentimentality?”

“Not everyone is forever chatting people up, Anders. That’s just you.”

“Sure. I’m the only man in the world with a working sex drive.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Mitchell crossed his arms and glared at the red light, in lieu of Anders. “And I meant to stay for the music.”

“I’m hardly your jailer.” Anders gunned his engines as soon as the light turned green. “You could have stayed on your own.”

 

*

They did not have sex when they went home. In fact, they did not even talk. They barely talked in the days that came and sex dwindled to some lazy morning make out sessions.

Anders did not comment when Mitchell came home from his last shift in the hospital. They had only needed somebody for three months and frankly, Mitchell was glad to be done with it. Working with Doctor Michele breathing down his neck and alternating between abusing him and trying to seduce him was not his idea of an ideal work environment.

But he needed a new job. When he mentioned that to Anders over dinner, Anders had just shrugged and said that as long as Mitchell did not have a job, he might was well be the one in charge of cooking and cleaning.

But the last straw came when Anders called Friday afternoon to let him know that he would not come home any time soon. Dinner with a client. In Mitchell’s book, dinner with a client should not take, “Oh, I don’t know, early morning? None of your business.”

While Anders was still out, Mitchell went on the laptop and looked up flights. He had to take a deep breath before he clicked on “book.” The flight cost his entire savings. But this was his ticket back to freedom in England, out of a relationship that was going nowhere. He had made the decision when he went through the job ads. Yet again. It looked like his best chances were sheep farms on the South Island. He might as well go back to England and get his old job back. Or find a sheep farm in Wales.

So he booked the ticket. Now all that was left was to tell Anders.

 

*

Anders came home early in the morning. Mitchell had not watched the clock, but it was hours after Mitchell himself had gone to bed.

In the morning, when Mitchell woke up he spent some time looking at the beautiful man slumbering peacefully next to him. It was amazing how much like an angel Anders looked when he was asleep. It hurt, knowing that this was the second to last time he would ever see this image. The last time he would actually have time to contemplate Anders’ sleeping form and to play with hair. In his sleep, Anders had pressed closer to Mitchell.

 

After Mitchell had finally got up, he had breakfast on his own, surveying the flat. Mitchell had not even made any mark in here. It was still very much Anders’ personality that jumped out at every corner. It was almost as if the last three months had not happened. Weird.

Anders only got up when Axl called. And then he shouted at his brother for a while, before rushing out of the door, telling Mitchell he would be back soon enough. He was, in fact, back just in time for dinner, 17 hours before Mitchell’s flight left.

So when Anders came home, Mitchell stopped him before he could make it into the kitchen, “We need to talk.”

“Now? I’m starving, Mitchell, I only had a crappy sandwich at Mike’s place today.”

Mitchell nodded, deciding to blurt it right out: “I'm going back home.”

Anders cackled. “The fuck you are.”

“Watch me.” Mitchell crossed his arms. “I already booked the flight. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Right.” Anders crossed his arms as well, leaning against the wall next to his beloved fishes. “You're going home to what? Your job as a hospital cleaner?”

Mitchell dug his fingers into his arms, restraining himself. “Going home to my friends. To the people who care about me.”

“How sweet.” Anders smirked. “Your famously perfect mates, the only people left to love you.”

“Yes.” Mitchell did not appreciate Anders’ tone when he spoke about Mitchell’s friends. At all.

“Right then. Meanwhile, how about dinner?”

“You prick.” Mitchell had been leaning against the wall and pushed himself off know, striding into the kitchen to hide his face. He knew his hurt feelings would be all too obvious on his face and he did not want Anders to see how much power had over Mitchell. Anders really did not care about him. A boyfriend without a proper job.

If Anders saw the packed duffel bag in the bedroom, he did not comment on it later on.

 

*

Mitchell twisted in the taxi seat on his way to the airport to extract his phone from his pocket, expecting a call from Annie to admonish him to make sure his plane did not drop out of the sky. Instead, the caller ID showed Anders. Anders up at this time on a Sunday?

He had hardly taken the call when Anders shouted: “Mitchell, where the fuck are you?”

Mitchell regretted he had picked up the phone. “I told you yesterday. I’m flying home. I'm almost at the airport.”

There was silence at the other end of the line. Then he heard Anders scoff. “What are you trying to achieve here, Mitchell? Do you expect me to race through Auckland, breaking the speed limit just to catch you at the gate and beg you to stay? Is that what you want?”

“No,” Mitchell had not felt this tired for years, “No. I don’t expect you to do anything of the sort.”

“So what do you expect me to do, Mitchell?”

“Carry on with your life.” The taxi pulled into the airport. “Carry on with your life, party, pull the most beautiful people in the room, get your end away. Argue with your brothers. Right, I'm at the airport now, gotta go.” Mitchell looked back, although all he could see were the cars behind them of course. “I wish you all the best, Anders.”

He disconnected the call and paid the cab driver. Shouldering his surprisingly light bag, he entered the lobby of Auckland Airport. He was hours too early, but he had not been willing to face Anders, so he had left before his boyfriend – no, ex-boyfriend, woke up. Not even the bag drop off was open yet, so he just walked to the nearest coffee shop and got an overpriced latte. He savoured it, twirling the cup in his gloved hands.

Just as he was contemplating what sort of sweets he should get to still his hunger and loneliness, somebody sat next to him. Mitchell ignored the guy until he spoke up.

“I did break the speed limit.” Anders voice was oddly quiet, but Mitchell still started. Anders was sitting next to him, no tie and his shirt buttoned up the wrong way.

“What … what the fuck?”

Anders shrugged, his eyes not quite meeting Mitchell’s. “Tell me what I can do to stop you, Mitchell.”

“You can’t.” Mitchell pulled his duffel bag closer to himself. “I need to go home.”

“Why?”

“They care about me. George, Nina, Annie. I miss them. I miss the miserable weather.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“For a month, maybe.” Mitchell picked his napkin apart. “But we both know, you are not made for a relationship.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“I know I’m a dick.” Anders sighed audibly. “Always was. But I’m trying, Mitchell, I really am. Why do you think I wanted you to come with me to Auckland?”

Mitchell shrugged. “I have wondered.”

“For the same reason you actually came, I hope. I just felt … I just felt a connection with you, and I did not want to lose you. I want you in my life, and I want to be with you. It is just … I don’t know how to do this.”

“I’m not sure you actually want this.” Mitchell looked at the clock hanging on the other side of the hall.

“I just told you I do!”

“I think …” Mitchell raked his hand through his hair, “I think maybe you liked the idea of it, when we met, and when you suggested I come. I am not sure you like the reality that much. Maybe I’m not the right guy for you.”

“You’re the only one I ever wanted!”

Mitchell nearly had to laugh at that sentence. Anders Johnson, spouting lines that fitted in a romance. “But we want different things out of a relationship. Maybe you could do an open relationship, but …”

“No!” Anders’ voice was loud enough to make a couple paying for their coffee stare at him for a moment. Anders looked down, and then at Mitchell. “I could not do an open relationship,” Anders whispered.

“You mean you would not shag different people?”

Anders scowled. “I could not stand the idea of you shagging people other than me. And yes, I know that means I need to be exclusive too.”

“And that is hard for you.”

“It is.” Anders looked at the clock too now. “Please, Mitchell. Come home with me. We can talk there. Not here.”

“I’ll miss my flight.”

“Just give it one more week. I promise, I’ll pay for your flight if you still want to leave then. Business class, so you got more space for those long legs.”

Mitchell’s lips twitched against his will. “How could I resist an offer like that?”

“You cannot.” Anders rose and picked up Mitchell’s duffel bag. “Come on then.” Arrogant Anders was back.

Still, Mitchell followed him past the line forming for his flight. There went his savings. Somebody would be happy to have an empty seat next to them.

It was another silent car ride.

Once Anders had parked the car, Mitchell took a deep breath before he climbed out, back at the flat he thought he had left for good.

Anders actually carried Mitchell’s bag inside, considerate for once.

Once inside, Anders strode into the bedroom, dropped the bag there and went straight to the kitchen, bypassing Mitchell in one fluid movement. 

Of course, Anders poured them both a drink, vodka for himself and whiskey for Mitchell. Irish Whiskey. “Shall we sit down?”

Mitchell nodded. That was new. They usually argued while they were standing. Now, however, they sat down side by side on the settee. Anders took a big sip of his vodka before he started again.

“I found your ticket on the computer. You left the tab open after you printed it.”

“So you came racing to the airport?”

“No, I called you.”

“To shout abuse at me?”

“No.” Anders sighed, rolling his vodka glass in his hands, his eyes focused on the clear liquid. “I meant to ask you, quite calmly, why you were flying back to England.”

“Right.”

“It came out wrong,” Anders sighed, “But I did break the speed limit to stop you. And I was actually prepared to bragi my way to the gate.”

“Right,” Mitchell replied, with an edge of sarcasm. But accepted that Anders still could use his voice, sometimes.

“I’m fucking serious here!” Anders put the glass down on the table with a thud. “I’m serious Mitchell, I don’t want you to leave.”

“You don’t want me as your boyfriend either, though.”

“Of course I do!” Anders turned to Mitchell now, his blue eyes intense, “I know I’ve been a pretty shitty boyfriend, but I know we can do better.”

Mitchell found himself smiling, and reaching for one of Anders’ hands. Anders immediately took both of Mitchell’s hands and squeezed them while Mitchell said, “It’s not that I don’t want to believe it …”

“But?” Anders narrowed his eyes.

“But I’m just not sure. I don’t want you to change yourself for me, you know. But … so much of who you are is build on being a playboy.”

Anders shrugged, “I can’t bragi them anymore anyway.”

“And that’s just it! It feels a bit like you only decided to give a relationship with me a go because you feel that now you’re not a god anymore,” He ignored Anders’ wince, “that now you feel you might not get your end away as much as you’d like in the bars, so you might as well have somebody waiting at home for you.”

“That’s not it!” Anders protested. “Look, I …” He choked, took a deep breath and started again, “Look, you’ve got this the wrong way round. The fact that I can’t bragi them anymore, just makes me want to try harder, and to prove that I do not need bragi to pull anyone. Mike accused me of date rape once, and yeah, I brushed it away and told him, that deep down inside, they wanted me. Now, I need to prove it. To Mike and to myself. And I hurt you because I could not let go of that.”

Mitchell could only stare for a moment. Anders had never been this open, ever. Maybe not even to himself. Giving into the impulse he dragged Anders closer by his hands and then wrapped his arms around the smaller man. There was only a little resistance before Anders melted against him. “Anders, you are gorgeous. Gorgeous and clever. You do not need Bragi to get anyone into your bed. You did not need Bragi to make me move halfway across the world for you after just three nights.”

Anders pressed his face closer into Mitchell’s shoulder and his next words were muffled, “And then I drove you away again.”

“Well. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Anders lifted his head to look at Mitchell, “Why?”

“Because you’re right, I reckon. We can do better. I did follow you to Auckland for a reason.”

“Great sex?”

Mitchell poked him. “That too, but let’s remain serious here for a bit longer, all right?” Anders sighed and nodded, so Mitchell continued, “We did click when we were alone in that hotel room. It is harder in real life, where you are the PR hotshot and I am nobody at all. You’ve got the family you love to hate, I’ve got my friends I adore, you miss being a god, I could not be happier that I’m not a vampire anymore.”

Anders frowned. “Those are all reasons why this cannot work.”

“Or reasons why we complement each other.” Mitchell drew small circles on Anders’ back. “We both need to figure out how to have a relationship, and to talk to each other.”

“And I need to stop flirting.”

“And ogling,” Mitchell reminded him.

“I’m not ogling anymore than you,” Anders muttered. “Like that Sean bloke …”

“You were jealous?” Mitchell lifted his eyebrows, “Of a twenty year old student?”

“What is the difference between me and a twenty year old from your perspective, old man?”

“Well …” Mitchell grinned, leaning forward to place a kiss on Anders’ nose. “One of you has the greatest bum I’ve seen in 120 years and there is absolutely no reason for me to ogle anyone else’s bum.”

Anders smirked, “You like my bum, do you?”

*

The make-up sex was fantastic. Almost so fantastic that Mitchell contemplated for a fleeting moment to ask Anders to book him a flight home the following week. Just so they could make up again.

The next day, Anders walked into the airline’s office, managed to summon Bragi’s voice and got Mitchell a full refund for his flight. And, without Bragi’s voice, convinced one of Mike’s old buddies from the building industry to hire Mitchell.

Because Anders actually cared and Mitchell was worth it.


End file.
